Intern Of The Year

This guy should get a raise:

“When I heard gunshots, my first instinct was to head toward the congresswoman to make sure that she was okay,” Hernandez said in an interview with ABC’s Christine Amanpour Sunday. “Once I saw that she was down, and there were more than one victim, I went ahead and started doing the limited triage that I could with what I had.”

Hernandez, who is 20, told ABC that he simply “shut off all emotion.” “I knew I wouldn’t be good to anyone if I had a breakdown,” he recalled. He noted that he went to help because he had “limited experience in triage and training.”

He lifted up Giffords’ head, because he feared she might choke on her own blood, and used smocks from the grocery store’s meat department as a makeshift bandages for her and other victims.

Giffords, he says, was alert, but couldn’t talk.

“‘Just grab my hand to let me know that you’re okay,'” he recalls telling the injured lawmaker.

According to Hernandez, she squeezed his hand, and he didn’t let go, riding with her in the ambulance to the hospital, where she was rushed into emergency surgery.

“It was probably not the best idea to run toward the gunshots,” he told the Arizona Republic. “But people needed help.”

You never know how you’re going to react to such events, but he definitely performed far above and beyond.

12 thoughts on “Intern Of The Year”

  1. I hope the media starts covering the real story of people like Hernandez rather than the make believe story of what motivated a deranged person.

  2. But, Leland, wouldn’t examples of every-day competency erode the hysterical narrative of individual helplessness which leads to culminating ever increasing power in the central government? Why would the leftstream media do that?

  3. Interesting that the three people who took down the armed assailant, all of whom were unarmed, are getting little mention. The first person I think had his head grazed by a bullet before fighting back, he created the opening for the others to help (one a middle aged women who went for his ammunition). Without his fast response and the bravery of the others to quickly take advantage of his sacrificial move, the gunman would have reloaded and many others would have likely died. His actions I suspect directly saved the lives of many more people. He was I suspect the greatest hero in this crisis.

  4. Your are right, Pete. What I also find a little disquieting is the nearly complete focus on Congressman Giffords and the lese majeste issue of attacking a freaking Member of Congress, the horror.

    Me, I’m grieved far more for the 9-year-old girl killed, and her destroyed mom and pop. She’s dead just because she was in the wrong place — she certainly never said or did anything to twing this crazy’s sense of violence. If Giffords dies, well, that is very sad and I am sorry for her, and her family, but at least she had a life and grew up and achieved some pretty interesting goals, e.g. being a member of Congress. That’s something.

    But Christina-Taylor didn’t even make it to 4th grade and graduating from stuffed unicorns to Breyer horses. That is the worst thing here, for me.

  5. Carl, I totally agree with you. All of the deaths and destroyed lives should be mourned, but the death of a little kid is the biggest tragedy of all. No parent should have to deal with that.

  6. That was the other Pete, although I concur.

    I might note that a rising culture of assassination would perhaps be indicative of a faltering democracy and might be great cause for concern. Political disagreement may be intense, but still desperately needs to be civil and well above the barbarity of assassination. People are right to greatly fear any hint of politically motivated violence.

  7. Not that it matters in the scheme of things, but Christina was the granddaughter of former Philadelphia Phillies manager Dallas Green, who led the team to their first World Series win in 1980. Phillies fans have an extra reason to be shocked and saddened by this.

  8. She was also born on 9/11/01. As if we were given a second chance, a sign of hope, and then we muffed it — killed it. How God can stand us, I do not know.

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